#hhhhhhh need to move faster!!

[thatnonb1ny-cvmslut]

hhhhhhh damn you, now all I can think about is being publicly used as my holes get stretched and filled with more and more cum 🥵 I'd be soooo embarrassed too, being exposed like that, face red as you make me take all of it, but still unable to stop, moaning pathetically as my pussy is denied and my ass is stretched. My favorite scenario is being held close against someone's chest who whispers into my ear what a perfect slut I am for them, so eager, so pathetic, but in a cute way! while strangers fondle and grope me, finger my mouth and fuck me 🥺👉👈

Oh damn me now is it? Damn the one who gave you a days worth of horny thoughts and daydreams of firm hands gripping your soft body. Of arms holding you tight so you can only feel helpless but safe as your pussy is denied of cock, but fingers and lips alike can take turns using you.

Absolutely damn me for this! I am damnable and indeed here to instigate more throbbing tdicks and pussy!

I'll take your fantasy with me and mild it into something you'll ache for through the day as I've proved I can.

It's time to head out for our date, and before heading out the inspection to make sure you're not wearing any underwear, a pair of easy to tear off shorts and a light crop top that barely fits. I'm planning on showing you off and tempting as many people today as possible.

Our destination? The local open air market of course!

There are plenty of people about and many stare at your body as I lead you with an arm around your waist, hand slipping into your hemline to tease your hips and ass as we make our way to the furthest stall that has a nice little tasting area for their crafted sweets nestled near the trees and far enough to sit out slightly out of sight.

I have you sit on my lap as the morning dew still lingers to the seat and tables, my bulge growing as my hands settle on your hips, slowly grinding your ass on my lap.

"Really? Here?" You ask flustered but moving your hips with my hands. I smirk and whisper in your ear "We're being watched and I'm gonna give them a show, so be my good little slut and get ready." I warn you as I push your hemline down, reach to unzip my fly and pull my throbbing cock out.

"H-hey..hhhold oonnmmf" you try and protest as a whine escapes while my cock searches for your asshole, gliding across your pussy as a tease and to use your flowing wetness as lube. You help by spreading and lifting your ass soni can rest my tip on your hole.

The vendor comes to check on us suddenly as you put your body weight on me and my cock pushes into your asshole, and a moan escapes your lips "Excuse me folks are you..oh..oh ok I'll.." "Don't look away sir! They like being watched, and they'll gladly service you if you're willing." I slowly grind your hips and feel your asshole clench as you whimper a soft "..please let me service you.."

The vendor stutters some and takes a deep breath as he sets the "out to lunch" sign and comes back to kneel on front of us. Watching intently as I start bouncing you harder on my cock. "hhnnffuck ohfuuck ohgodplease look at me" you whine and moan as you beg the vendor creeps closer, eyes fixed on your stretched asshole and your leaking pussy.

"Is it..can I..?" The vendor reaches out to touch your wet pussy and you lurch forward almost pushing my cock out mid thrust. "Ah ah..not yet, he still mmnnf...still needs to cum first." "Please..ohfuckfuckfuck pleasetouchmycock hnnn" you whine as you rock your hips harder trying to push your pretty pussy into the vendors hand. He pulls back and watches from his place. "You heard him, not until you cum and I want to see that!" He pulls on this jeans as a good bulge starts defining itself.

"Cum hard my good little slut and he can fill your pretty pussy.." my hands let go of your hips as you slam your ass harder and faster, bringing you to a hard almost squirting orgasm. Shaking and panting you slump against me as I hold you close and whisper in your ear"that's my pretty slut..get ready now." And I motion to the vendor as he undoes his pants pulling out a nice veiny cock. He sits in front of us as I lift you off my cock and help you onto his lap and cock.

Your pussy stretches and a loud moan escapes you, little did we know a small like waiting for the vendor had formed and all eyes watch as you regain focus. You're eyes meet the crowd as you start slamming yourself hard on the vendor, nearly pushing him over. "Mmm mmore pleeeasemore watch me hhnnnggg"

The crowd moves to us as the vendor does his best to fuck you, and I invite all willing to watch. "They want you all. Who's going to help this poor vendor fuck this pretty slut today?" Have spring up. "Four.. Five.. Right.. Eight people waiting their turn." Your eyes focus again and you're surrounded by bodies, cocks and gocks lined up ready to use you as the vendor grunts hard unload rope after rope of cum inside you.

"Next players turn." I help lift you off the vendor as he slips out from under you, his cum dripping down your thigh as I motion the next person to the seat under you. I help slide them inside you and you start bouncing. "That's my pretty slut, such a good toy..seven more people then we can go." No words escape, just moans and wet slapping sounds as you lean your head back to look me in the eyes as I kiss you and stand back to film and stroke myself to full erection and wait my turn to fill your pussy with my seed.

Fucked with no breaks in between playmates, leaves you exhausted, filled so much with cum ever breath taken cause a spasm and a bit of cum to leak out. I take my seat again and with help from the vendor you're set on my cock, slowly grinding my hips as I kiss your neck and face. Pulling up the videos of each load shot into you, your pussy clenching harder and harder as you watch yourself on the phone get railed mercilessly. You start to fade and I give you a few hard deep thrusts as my eager load explodes inside you, pushing cum further into you as well as pushing it out from being so stuffed.

Moans, whimpers and whines are all you manage as I finish unloading in you and hold you panting and catching my breath with you.

"Oh fuck, you did so well today. We need to come back, right?" The vendor nods as well as the small crowd all agreeing and praising the good pretty little slut they all had fun using I'm the past few hours. The morning faces and the sun is high as we get ready to leave the market. Shaky and leaning on me as we walk slowly, cum leaking visibly from your shorts, and we notice the crowd was actually the vendors and they all wave us off eagerly calling out to us to "hurry back! We can have more fun! Here some juice to help!" Treats and presents for the pretty slut, the new object of obsession for our community open air market.

[akumanoken]

A man still having fun with his little mouse...

A little mouse who can't really focus on any one thing. With his husband inside him, and the fluttering sleeve around him, it was all he could do to hold on. He can't remember how many times he's came already. "F-faster... faster... Aya please... Ayaa~~~"

"Faster?? But you're doing so well," he grinned. "You're doing so good, for me, baby... just hold on okay?" He loved watching the other tremor uncontrollably, his chest heaving. "Damn... baby you're still so tight. Sure you want me to go faster, it doesn't fee like you can take much more..." One part concerned the other part teasing. He knew the other was more sensitive the slower you went... and for shrinking that he needed to do more than just be himself for attention, he was going to give him more than he could stand.

"It's... it's c-comi---" He clamped around Ayato again, his sensitive cock shuddering. He had little left, so it was just the now incessant squeeze of walls around Ayato that made him moan... harder than he expected.

The pace was affecting him more than he thought. He teased Souji one more time, pumping the sleeve around him, watching his eyes rolled up and a broken cry leave his lips before pulling it away, tossing it to the side.

No, this was to be as deep inside him, as close to his heated skin as possible. Souji got his faster, broken moans and cries filing Ayato's ears as he finally let go of the control he had restricted himself to, rutting into the smaller desperately. "S-so good... so hotl... S-souji... HHHHHHH!!!!" Aya's eyes were screwed shut, stars exploding in his vision as he finally came, shuddering and riding it out, wincing at the other's nails on his skin but not minding at all.

He didn't even try be gentle, collapsing finally on Souji, holding his close. "I got you..." He didn't have to see him to know the other was still trying to come down. He felt the other quivering, scratching on him and trying to pull on Ayato with a need to absore the other inside him. "Shh.... shh..." He forced himself up, slowly pulling out and moving so he could cradle Souji against him. "Shhh... you're right here, you're just fine, baby..."

His mouth moved, but no sound came out, but it was fine. Soon enough the trembling stopped, the muted whimpering halted, and Souji was sleep against his husband.

[ceabu]

i swear im working on the requests sa;oifnas;doigasdg

[erekiosuncreativeideas]

Painfully Pointless (AHIT oneshot)

A birthday gift for @habijob, the creator of @queens-nightmare. (I'm so late, I should have posted the rest of the gifts way earlier hhhhHHH)

Summary : "A while ago, Snatcher had given the Queen the task to unfreeze everything, and of course she vehemently agreed. However, what he hadn’t planned was that she was also just as stubborn when it came to unfreeze the numerous corpse all around Subcon.

It wasn’t part of the original task, and the shade made sure she had understood that… But she kept telling him she wanted to do it. Although, unsurprisingly… She didn’t seem to want to be alone when doing it. Snatcher had an idea why: deep down, she must have realized how pointless it was too. However, denial was a powerful thing, just like hope was."

Also available on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/32162935

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Snatcher knew it was pointless, and of course he had told Vanessa about that– but she hadn’t listened to him. Sure, she was determined, but while it all started with that, the ghost knew it would end in sobs and cries. Still, there they were, in front of the manor.

A while ago, Snatcher had given the Queen the task to unfreeze everything, and of course she vehemently agreed. However, what he hadn’t planned was that she was also just as stubborn when it came to unfreeze the numerous corpse all around Subcon. It wasn’t part of the original task, and the shade made sure she had understood that… But she kept telling him she wantedto do it. Although, unsurprisingly… She didn’t seem to want to be alone when doing it. Snatcher had an idea why: deep down, she must have realized how pointless it was too. However, denial was a powerful thing, just like hope was.

-“I already asked you that, but,” he paused, looking away with a frown that showed how conflicted he was about the whole thing: “Are you sure you want to do this?” he glanced back to the Vanessa, who nodded decidedly.

-“I have to,” was what she merely replied, before pushing the doors open. The ghost’s frown deepened as he followed her inside, his mind still full of terrible memories of this place. In any case, he kept his mouth shut. Without a word, she and Snatcher gathered all the statues in the same place: the entrance. Once they were done, the Queen moved closer to one of them.

Not a human’s, but a bushcat’s.

It was terrifying to think that all of these statues used to be alive, used to be actual people walking and talking… A long time ago, Snatcher had made sure to do his part in Subcon, unfreezing the children’s corpses and burying them respectfully.

And that was why he knew why Vanessa’s hopes in that regard were all pointless. Dead people never came back to life, and he knew that from experience. However, he hadn’t been that direct with Vanessa, which… Was a bit cruel, in its own way. Yet, he wasn’t sure if that would discourage her anyway. It hadn’t when he himself unfroze the poor children, and if she was as stubborn as he was…

Slowly, Vanessa knelt in front of the frozen bushcat and brought her trembling hands to it. She was hesitating, and the ghost was sure that she was afraid of what was going to happen. He wasn’t really surprised… He had been in her shoes years ago. But despite that, the woman took a deep breath, readying herself for what was to come. She closed her eyes and frowned, visibly focused on the task at hand. Soon enough, the ice started to melt and water drops fell to the wooden floor, staining it. It didn’t take so long for the Queen to unfreeze the poor animal, the texture of ice on her hands replaced by the soft touch of leaves… But as soon as said animal was free from its ice prison, it fell down to the side, unmoving and not breathing. Its eyes were lost into space and it was clear that life had been gone from this small and frail body for a very, verylong time.

A shocked gasp left the woman’s mouth as her mind was forced to realize that yes, it was too late, way too late. All of these statues, these people… They were dead. The only thing that was left of them was their fleshy, icy shell of a body.

Horror spread on the Queen’s features as she leaned closer, her hands shaking hard. She didn’t want to believe it, he knew that, he had been there too- but there wasn’t anything they could do anymore. Still, tears filled her eyes and she lightly touched the animal, sobs leaving her mouth as she muttered a series of “no, no, no, please, no…!”

The sight was a difficult one for Snatcher. It was like re-experiencing something he wished he could forget… But it was also hard to see Vanessa feeling so guilty over something she did while being controlled by a merciless entity. He wanted to tell her it wasn’t her fault- and it wasn’t, but he was aware that wouldn’t help. All of these ice statues… It was a chilling reminder of how dangerous her powers were and how deadly they had been to so many people, even if she hadn’t been herself when doing it. No matter what he’d say, she wouldn’t listen, just like she hadn’t when she decided to unfreeze everyone. And so… Without saying anything, he just put his hands over her shoulders, trying to comfort her the best way he could- but then, as if woken up from her trance, she span towards him and hugged him tightly. He could feel her icy tears touching him as she sobbed, crying and screaming how she was so sorry, how she wished she could just go back and avoid the freezing… The shade hugged her back, frowning more as he glared into space:

-“It wasn’t your fault,” he told her, patting her back as she cried against him: “you know that.”

-“I did this! It is my fault!” she protested, and he kept brushing her back. No words would help her to feel better in this moment. What she had witnessed had deeply shocked her, reminding her of the Subcon tragedy. And while she hadn’t caused the freezing out of her own free will… It wasn’t so surprising she blamed herself so much for it.

… While there was actually a person responsible for the murder of the villagers.

“I’m going to make him pay,” Snatcher thought with determination, holding Vanessa tighter: “I won’t let him hurt anyone.”

His eyes glanced back to Vanessa and his expression softened at the sight.

-“You can go outside if you want,” he offered, his voice a bit calmer: “I’ll take care of everything.”

He felt her shaking her head and, slowly, she stepped back, breaking the hug:

-“… No,” she retorted, her voice breaking from all of her crying: “I want to do this. I have to,” she insisted and Snatcher didn’t push the argument further. Maybe this was her way of coping… Though it was a very painful one, he had to admit that much.

One by one, she unfroze the statues, holding back her tears as she recognized the people she had known in the past. The ghost had offered to unfreeze some of them himself, “to be done with that whole thing faster”, but she had refused. Surely she had guessed this was his way of saying he could help, but it seemed like she was really determined on fixing what she had done years ago.

Well… Is this could be considered as “fixing“.

It took them a good hour to finish unfreezing everyone and soon, there were several rows of corpses on the floor, all lying down with their hands crossed over them. Vanessa remained silent for a moment and, before Snatcher could say anything, she crouched down next to each corpse, closing their eyes as gently as she could.

-“I’m sorry,” she whispered to them: “I’m really sorry,” before going to the next person and repeating the same words and gestures. The shade watched her without saying anything, knowing she was trying really hard to apologize for what she had done- but then again, it hadn’t been her fault. It was someone else’s.

When she was done, she stood up and took a few deep breaths, probably resisting the urge to cry again. The ghost hesitated, not really sure if he should say anything. After what seemed to be a few minutes of respectful silence, the Queen turned around and looked at him, tears still in her eyes:

-“Will you help me bury them?” she asked him softly. The answer was obvious and Snatcher nodded his head, floating closer to one of the corpses:

-“Yeah,” he murmured, picking up someone who used to be a servant of the Royal Family. He carried the person to the door and glanced back at the sorrowful woman: “We need to get them outside first.”

Vanessa nodded dutifully and picked the bushcat from earlier, the first being she had unfrozen. Holding it tightly against her chest, she joined the ghost and opened the doors, her face full of regrets and sadness.

-“Let’s do it,” she concluded before making the first step outside, one that was the continuation of her attempt at “fixing” things as much as she could given the irreversible circumstances. Then again… This was her way of coping.

A painful, pointless way of coping, but one nonetheless.

[illfoandillfie]

Easy As A-B-C

Pairing: Professor!Gwilym Lee x Reader

Summery:  Professor Lee is getting sick of marking papers, you offer an alternative. One where he doesn't need to think at all.

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected sex, bimbofication (without hypnosis), oral sex (m and f receiving), hand job, light dom/sub dynamic, dom!reader, sub!Gwil, overstimulation, maybe a little bit of hair pulling

Words: 4,537

A/N: This was massively massively inspired by my love @dracoladon​ and her Drarry fic Lucid (seriously, go read it because she’s a much better writer than me and also sex dumb Draco is hhhhhhh). Reading it made me want to write more himbo fics but without all the hypnosis stuff thats in my Future Management series. Then I got talking to @peachydeacon​ about himbo!Rog which led to talking about himbo!Gwil and this fic is the result of our discussion lmao. It was also partly inspired by a post on a porn blog that popped up on my dash but I can’t link to that because tumblrs dumb. 

Also, it is a professor gwil fic but set after reader has graduated so it’s all above board lmao

Blurb Advent: Day 24

Taglist:  @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama​ @deakyclicks​ @jennyggggrrr​ @drowseoftaylor​ @hannafuckingsucks​ @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming​ @queenmylovely​ @ilovequeenmorethanyou​ @johndeaconshands​ @borhapbois​ @stardust-galaxies​ @cherries-n-rocknroll​ @rogersslave​ @scorpiogemini 

Gwilym looked unreasonably hot while he was grading papers, his brow knitted, wearing a look of serious concentration made all the more noticeable by the reading glasses sliding down his nose. His loose tie and the undone top buttons of his business shirt lent him a casually dishevelled air, and that wasn’t even mentioning the way he absentmindedly twisted his pen between his fingers as he read and reread sentences he was struggling to understand, occasionally pausing to underline something or write a note in the margins. It all painted a very sexy image, the kind of serious sexy only a professor could achieve, though this sexiness was nowhere near new. You’d found his manner oddly arousing even when he’d been your professor. Of course, that had been a few years ago and well before you’d had your chance encounter in the local second hand bookstore that led you to ask him out. He’d stuttered out something about never having even thought of you as more than his student and “really I feel almost as if I’ll get in trouble for the conversation as soon as I get back to campus.” But the awkwardness soon changed when you confessed to having had a minor crush on him back in the day and having since hoped to run into him. He seemed more open to the idea of dinner with you after that and, if you were being honest, more cocky too, but cocky in a decidedly dignified and charming way. Anyway, one thing led to another and now here you were somewhere close to a year and half later and you were struggling not to stare at Gwil as he graded papers and looked professor-ally disarrayed and hot.

You knew it was something to do with the Romantic era poets that the students had to write about because he’d read a question out to you earlier to get your opinion of if it was confusingly worded. “No, I don’t think so,” “Then why in god’s name do none of my students get it?” he looked about ready to hit his head against the desk until he passed out but he returned to the topmost paper with a sigh and ruffled hair from where he’d run his hand through it. That’s when you’d started trying not to stare. A tall order when all you could think about was dragging Gwil to the bedroom and ravishing him enough to make him forget all about John Keats and poetry and the English language itself. Not that that was exactly hard. No, Gwilym had a tendency to get a little dazed and confused when you really gave it to him. Sex drunk you’d decided to call it. A transformation that you quite delighted in witnessing and causing. Gwil was sharp as a tack usually, always ready with some obscure fact or quote from literature. It was part of what made him such a good teacher, his memory for all things bookish, as well as his approachable (if a little stern) demeanour and his determination to get the best from his students. But it wasn’t hard to shut down his brain, cloud his memory and entirely befuddle him. One time you’d snuck into the bathroom at the restaurant you’d gone to for dinner and poor Gwilym had become so spaced out he’d spilt half a glass of wine in his lap and then walked into the glass door as you left, even with you leading him by the hand. You supposed that what they said about great power and responsibility was true. All the same, it was a fun power to wield and you knew that, with the right sort of attention, you could have Gwilym babbling incomprehensible gibberish with no memory of what a poem even was, which was surely something he’d appreciate right about now.

You blinked yourself from your reverie as, finally, Gwil set his glasses aside and rose from his seat, groaning as he stretched out the stiffness in his back. He rolled his neck back and forth, your eyes following, before letting his shoulders drop and moving to sit next to you on the couch. “I can’t do it anymore, I can’t read another word about Byron or I’ll loose it.” He sighed, draping an arm around your shoulders and leaning into your neck. “Byron? I remember that assignment. Everyone hated you for it,” His breath was warm against your skin as he spoke, sending a tingle down your spine, “Well if this year’s lot is anything to go by, the feeling was probably mutual,” “Mmm, I remember one girl saying she was going to shove her copy of Don Juan up your arse if she didn’t pass,” He lifted his head again and laughed, “And yet my rectum remains Byron fee and no other injuries befell me, so either I taught you enough to get by or you were all a bunch of cowards,” “Bit of both probably. And why would this year’s be any different, huh?” “I don’t know, you haven’t read any of their attempts at cohesive analysis. Some of them are just throwing out terms like allusion and anapestic and personification all willy-nilly, clearly without properly understanding them. ” “I think you’re being too harsh on them. They’re first years after all and it’s not always easy to understand all that poncy poetical bullshit. Plus, you know it all already so of course everyone else seems stupid to you,” “Maybe,” he conceded, though it seemed to take some effort. “Honestly, someone should put you in their position, see how well you go with it,” “Yeah? And who would do something like that?” Gwilym laughed as you shifted to straddle his lap, accepting the kiss you offered, “You?” “Maybe I will. Spell personification for me,” “You know it’s not high school English, right. We don’t do pop quizzes on spelling and grammar.” “I know you don’t, but this is my subject and I’m testing spelling. Besides,” you let your hand drop between you, brushing lightly over the front of his pants, “I promise it’ll be fun.” Gwil gave a half-hearted eye roll, “P-E-R-S-O-N-I-F-I-C-A-T-I-O-N, personification. D’you want me to use it in a sentence too?” You knew he’d get it right. Gwil always had been good at spelling off the top of his head which you supposed was a side effect of all his reading and the years devoted to the written word. But it was still a little annoying. Mostly because he was being a bit of a tool about the whole thing, but it didn’t help that you’d grown quite wet thinking about how you’d like to have him, like to turn him into the fucked out airhead you’d seen before. You shook your head and tutted at him as if he got it wrong. “No, that’s definitely it. I’ve just read it about a hundred times, I know I’m right. P-E-R-S-O-N-I-F-I-C-A-T-I-O-N,” he spelt it faster that time, trying to prove that you were wrong. “Try allusion for me,” “A-L-L-U-S-I-O-N,” Right again. You sighed as if you were disappointed. Gwilym raised his eyebrows but said nothing. “What about caesura?” “C-E-A-S-U-R-A,” The mistake was an easy one to make, two letters flipped around the wrong way, and you could tell he knew it was wrong as soon as he’d said it. He was surprised when you leant forward to kiss him again, cupping his jaw with one hand as you dropped the other and slowly pulled down the zip on his work pants. “But I fucked up,” he said softly, eyes still closed as you pulled away a few centimetres. You just smiled as you thought of a new word, “Anapestic,” It was another word Gwil had mentioned as seeing in his student’s essays so you knew it would be fresh in his mind and he proved as much when he spelt it, “A-N-A-P-E-S-T-I-C,” He was right of course, so you tutted and pulled your hand away from his crotch, grabbing his chin with your other and forcing him to look at you, “You can do better than that.” His features shifted at the sudden loss of contact, the look of concentration returned once more. If anything, your much closer proximity to the expression made him seem all the more hot but you resisted the urge to give in and drag him to the bedroom, curious if he’d catch onto your little game now and, equally so, to see if he’d play along, “Try Onomatopoeia.” A longer word gave him more chances to get things wrong but would his pride and his brain allow that? Apparently so. “O-N-O-M-” Gwil paused and thought for a second, his eyes narrowed as his looked at you, “O-N-O-M-A-T-O-P-I-A,” the last three letters were said with such deliberate diction that you knew he’d figured it out. “Good boy,” you said, letting your hands slip inside his undone pants to massage his dick. His hips jolted at the contact and he let his hands fall to your arse, squeezing. “What about, dactyl?” His reply was instant, unthinking, and totally correct, “D-A-C-T-Y-L,” You clicked your tongue condescendingly as you once again removed your hands from him. “Fuck,” “Well that’s what happens when you get things wrong, honey, and such an easy one too,” “I didn’t get it wro- fine, give me another,” You smiled, unable to hide how delighted you were that he was interested in following your rules, even if it was just his competitive streak rearing its head to show that he could out smart you, “Assonance,” Gwilym spelt the word slowly and carefully, making sure to only say one ‘s’ and to leave off the ‘e’. And you made sure to reward him for it, shuffling backwards on his lap so you could shimmy his pants down his thighs and wrap your hand around his cock. He raised an eyebrow at you but otherwise made no comment as he leant back in his seat to enjoy the attention. “Romanticism,” Once again Gwilym was careful with his spelling, intentionally replacing the ‘c’ with a double ‘s’ but that was the kind of behaviour you wanted to encourage so you kept stroking him off, twisting your wrist, dragging your thumb over his flushed tip. It must have felt good with the way he was sighing, shifting his shoulders as if to move his whole body closer to yours. “So clever baby, what about,” you paused, dredging up memories of poetry analysis and the words you used to have burned into your brain but which you’d not had much use for recently, “Enjambment” “Ummm, E-N,” Gwil hummed as you leant over him and let a trail of spit drip onto his cock, using your hand to spread it over his length, “Enjamb-ment, uh, E-N-J-A- no E, no A, M-E-N-T,” You leant into his ear and spoke softly, “That’s right, being so good for me, so clever. What should I do next though? Ride you? Or maybe suck you off? Or just keep doing this?” “Uh,” Gwilym shook his head a little as if to clear it, “mouth? Please?” “Of course, baby. If you can spell dissonance for me.” You were quietly confident that he’d get the spelling wrong, already noticing the first sign of his impending brainlessness, extra filler words where he’d normally not need them. It was funny though, usually he wouldn’t reach that stage until he was much closer to nutting. “D-I-S” he rushed through the first three letters and then stopped, biting his lip, “T-um, A-N-E-N-C-E.” You were sure the errors in that word were less intentional than the previous few and, as promised, slipped off his lap and settled yourself between his legs, pulling his pants off so he could spread them wider for you. You held eye contact as you let your tongue trail along the underside of his cock, tracing along a vein, though you couldn’t help but smile as he groaned above you. “Can you spell Decasyllable for me?” you asked before closing your lips around the head of his cock. “What? Oh, um, D-E-C-K- fuck,” he broke off as you swirled your tongue around his tip. “Fuck’s not a letter, baby,” you sank down on him again, bobbing a little lower. “I know, um, Deck-syllable, D-E-C-K-A-S-Y-B-L-E, I think. Is that right?” In answer you hummed and took him a little deeper, pushing his shirt up towards his chest. Gwilym took the hint and pulled it off before he grabbed your hair, leaning his head against the back of the couch. For a moment you just focused on sucking him off, listening to his shallow breathing and whiny groans. But you weren’t finished with your game yet.

“Epigraph?” you asked before bobbing down on him again, pushing yourself to take him deeper still. Gwilym remained silent as you gagged and pulled back from him again to breath freely. “Well?” “What did you say?” “Epigraph. Can you spell that?” He nodded as you resumed your bobbing, his hand grabbing at your hair, “E-P-P-E-G-R-A-F-F.” You hummed around him and his hips bucked up, pushing him further down your throat for a second. “No, don’t stop,” he whined under his breath as once again you let him fall from between your lips. “Sorry baby,” you wrapped your hand around his base and switched back to jerking him off, “you’re so hard though and I know you want to earn your orgasm like a good boy,” Gwilym nodded. “Okay, so spell meter,” “M- oh, I don’t know,” “You do know, baby, you just gotta try. Meter,” He scrunched his face up in thought, “M-E-E-T-R,” “See, I said you knew it, and you did it so well!” Gwilym gave you a dopey smile, looking proud at your praise, “I did?” His mouth dropped open with the movement of your hand. “Of course baby! You got it completely right because you’re so clever. What about sonnet, do you think you can do that one for me?” He nodded enthusiastically, “S-N-E-T,” “Very good! Okay, three more and I’ll let you cum,” “Okay!” “Okay, what about,” you thought for a moment, watching your hand pumping over his shaft as you trailed your fingernails lightly over his thigh, “Spell rhyme,” “Ummm,” Gwilym bit his lip in thought, soft grunting noises rising in his throat in time with your strokes. “It’s a bit of a tricky one,” “Yeah.” “And it’s hard to concentrate isn’t it?” “Mmhmm, so hard to con-ten-tate,” he thought for a little longer as you slowed your hand, “rrr- R-I-M,” “So clever baby! Okay canto,” “Oh! Ummm,” Gwilym pouted and whined as you unexpectedly drew the tip of your tongue around his head, “I don’ know,” “No?” He shook his head, eyebrows furrowed. “Okay what about, poem?” Gwilym seemed to have reached the last dregs of his knowledge, grunting in frustration as he shook his head again.” “You sure you don’t know?” He bucked his hips up into your hand as he shook his head again. “Alright, I’ll give you an easy one then. Spell your name for me, spell Gwilym,” Gwil’s eyes lit up at the suggestion but his face quickly slipped into a frown again, the expression getting more pronounced with every passing second he didn’t say anything. He sought out your face, his eyes brimming with frustrated tears, “I don’t…” his fists balled up as he looked to you for help. “You don’t remember?” He shook his head once more, a tear shaking loose and rolling down his cheek, “you said it was easy.” “It’s okay if you don’t know,” “Really?” he sniffled. “Of course it’s okay. You’re not supposed to know things.” “I’m not?” “Awww, of course not baby. That’s why I’m here, to know things, and you’re just here to make me happy.” Gwilym sighed and leaned back against the couch, smiling again. “Do you want to give it a try for me?” “Umm,” he whined as you slowed your strokes “It would make me very happy,” “Okay, umm…G? L? ummmm, M?” “You’re so clever, baby!” Gwilym giggled proudly and grinned at you as you adjusted your grip on his cock. “You’re my good, smart boy, aren’t you baby?” “Mmhmm,” he bucked his hips towards you as you took him into your mouth again. “Feels go-od,” he mumbled, almost panting with how close he was. You dragged the hand that rested on his thigh up to cup his balls as you sucked on his tip until he moaned and came, spilling his seed over your tongue.

You kept working your hand along his length, even after you’d pulled your mouth from him. “Was that a good orgasm baby? Did it make you feel good?” He nodded, pouting a little as you kept wanking him, “good oggsam,” It took all your effort not to laugh at that, biting on the inside of your cheek to keep from letting so much as a chuckle slip. Very few things delighted you as much as when Gwil forgot how to talk properly. “You know,” you said as you finally let his cock free, “sometimes when people have orgasms they feel euphoric. Do you feel euphoric?” “Mmhmm, you-porik.” “Clever boy. Do you want to help me feel euphoric?” “How?” “With your mouth,” “Oh! Okay!” You braced yourself against his knees as you stood, leaning forward to give Gwil a small kiss on the lips. He closed his eyes and smiled up at you contentedly as you shimmied out of your own clothes, dropping them all to the floor. “You going to let me lie down?” you asked, tapping Gwil on the shoulder. He looked around confusedly for a moment before his eyes settled on you, growing wider as he realised how naked you were. Without warning he surged forward, his hands grabbing your arse as he nuzzled his face in the valley between your breasts. If it were up to Gwil he would have stayed there all day but you had need for him elsewhere so you yanked his head back by his hair, earning a small noise of displeasure. “Don’t complain, baby. You want to make me feel euphoric, right?” “Mmhmm,” he hummed earnestly. “And how do you think you could do that?” “I don’t know,” “Maybe, cunnilingus?” “cun-un-un-un-gus,” “Exactly,” you directed his gaze down to your pussy, failing to hide your amused grin. But he was too far gone to notice, happily slipping to his knees in front of you. Telling him to wait for a second, you climbed onto the couch and spread your legs, beckoning him between them once you were comfortable.

He hadn’t been able to say the word but that didn’t mean he wasn’t skilled at the act. A string of soft hums and throaty sounds rose to your lips as he licked your cunt, the scratchy sensation of his beard only amplifying the soft, wet, warmth of his tongue.   “Can you, oh, can you spell poem for me baby?” Gwilym hummed and then started naming letters, his mouth still pressed against your cunt as if he didn’t realise he couldn’t talk and suck at the same time. You didn’t bother to stop him when he said too many letters or correct him when all of them were wrong. You just let his breath wash over you, his tongue flicking against your clit with each new letter, eliciting longer moans and sighs from you. “Fuck Gwil,” you panted, “keep going,” “Keep going,” he repeated, his voice muffled as he dragged his tongue all the way down your slit and then back up again, making you whine. You jolted when he reached your clit again and pressed against his head, keeping him close to you, your other hand trailing up your chest to tweak your nipples and knead your breasts. Occasionally you’d give him an instruction – “faster please,” or “do that again,” or “fuck Gwil, right there,” – and he’d repeat the words back to you, softened and often a little slurred together or mispronounced, before doing as he was asked, drawing you closer to release. He was pleased whenever another groan or mewl slipped from your lips, responding to them with sounds of his own as if he were savouring a particularly delicious meal. It seemed he’d taken what you’d said about making you happy to heart, though some of his whines might have had more to do with his cock, hard again and straining to be touched as his attention remained focused on you. “I’m c-lose ba-by,” you grunted as Gwilym pressed his mouth to your lower lips, as if to give you a soft chaste kiss, only to begin shaking his head side to side, rubbing his face against your cunt. “loase,” he muttered to himself, trailing his tongue back up to your clit, making you grind your hips up into him. It was impossible to keep your mouth shut in the face of such a feeling, wantonly moaning as you felt your orgasm bubbling to the surface. Gwilym hummed against you in response to a particularly loud moan which managed to be your undoing, your knees trying to clamp shut around his head as he continued to suck at your clit.

When you calmed enough to let go of his hair and loosen your thighs from around his ears, Gwilym looked up at you. His face was shiny and wet but he seemed to have regained some of his usual awareness. His eyes weren’t quite as vacant and his smile less dopey than it had been. “Feel good?” he asked, sounding almost normal except for a slight lightness in his tone. “Very good baby,” you leaned forward and kissed him full on the lips, tasting yourself as he opened his mouth and accepted your tongue. Slowly you dropped your hand between you, finding his cock again, not quite done with your brainless toy. He grunted against your lips and bucked into your hand as you stopped his return to sense. “Isn’t this fun?” you said softly as you pulled back, holding Gwil by the chin to stop him from trying to follow. “Yeah, fun,” a smile slowly tugging at his lips, “what is?” “Not needing to think, baby,” “Oh! Yes,” he laughed. “You’re too pretty to have a brain anyway, aren’t you? Much better off letting it leak out of your head,” “Mmhmm, much,” “And do you know what good, dumb boys get?” “No?” “They get fucked. Would you like that?” “Yes yes yes,” “Alright, lie back for me,” you chuckled, giving his cock a final stroke. Gwilym settled on the carpet on his back, grinning as you straddled his lap. Silently he held out his hand, all but two of his fingers folded against his palm. “No, I don’t need your fingers sweetie,” you said, giving the tips of his two fingers a light kiss, “as dextrous as they are and as much as I enjoy them, I think I’m okay skipping straight to your cock,” He nodded, letting you place his hand down on the floor again. You watched his face as you slowly sank down onto him, once again the picture of cunt drunk bliss with glazed eyes and his lip between his teeth. He smiled as you leaned down to kiss him, rolling your hips against his slowly. As you tongues entwined again, Gwilym framed your waist with his hands, slowly dragging them up your sides and onto your chest. He cupped each of your breasts in one of his palms, squeezing softly as you rocked forward and back. “Better than Byron isn’t this?” you asked, pushing yourself up a bit, but not so far you couldn’t kiss him again. “Wha’s Byron?” You laughed, “Y’know I think this might be the dumbest I’ve seen you. Can’t believe all it took was a rigged spelling test. He obviously didn’t understand, staring blankly back at you.

What he did understand was that you were moving further away from him and he whined as you pushed yourself to sit higher again, bracing your hands on his chest as you used your knees to raise and lower yourself. It still wasn’t enough though so you shifted again before too long, placing a hand behind you to grab Gwil’s leg. You leant back on it changing the angle of Gwilym’s cock, and felt his hands drop from your chest, no longer able to reach as easily. They came to rest on your leg, his fingertips digging into your skin as you rode him, keening as you felt the start of your orgasm building in the pit of your stomach. “Fuck Gwil, fill me so well, feels so good,” “My dex-ik-tus cock?” You couldn’t help but laugh, taken by surprise at his misunderstanding and mispronunciation of dextrous, but you nodded in agreement too, repeating your sentiments about how good it felt. “Wanna make me feel even better?” “How?” You sat forward again and reached for his hand, pulling it to your clit. Gwilym took the hint, messily rubbing as you bounced on his cock, but his whines and moans only grew as you rode him. “You’re close?” “Mmhmm,” You were on the verge of asking if he could hold it when he came with a groan, pulsing inside you. But you didn’t stop. “I’m close too, baby, so I’m gonna keep fucking you, okay?” He nodded, eyes fixed on you. “Good boy.” You panted, grabbing his wrist to hold his hand at your clit and adjusting your rhythm. Each time you sank back down onto him you did it harder, slamming his cock into you as deep as you could manage, groaning with each one. Your orgasm was frustratingly close but Gwilym was becoming steadily more sensitive as his subsided, wincing more with each of your thrusts. The winces turned to whimpers which turned to whines as you whispered that you were so close. “Almost baby, almost,” “Please. Hur’s,” “Nearly, just. One. More,” you threw your head back with a moan as you finally found your release, Gwil whining when you pulsed around him, a fresh tear running from the corner of his eye onto the carpet as he squirmed under you.

“Sorry, baby,” you said softly as you carefully dismounted him. He hummed as you kissed him again, leaving an extra kiss against the tip of his nose. “Did so well, such a good boy for me,” “Yeah?” “Mmhmm, so good,” He gave you a slightly watery smile and let you pull him into a cuddle, sighing contentedly when you brushed your fingers through his hair. You stayed like that for a while, knowing that later you’d regret lying on the floor for so long but unable to find the energy to move or the willpower to tell Gwilym you had to let him go. He gradually lost the fucked out expression, becoming more aware of his surroundings and more capable of clear speech. “How are you feeling?” you asked when you realised he’d blinked away the last of his sex drunk vacancy. “Better than before. Little tired but much more relaxed and very satisfied. And, before you ask, yes that’s satisfied and yes I can spell it if you want,” “I believe you.”

[roughentumble]

Totally hypothetical question, but if you were on a living and seemingly infinite train, whose heartbeat matched in time with your own, what would you expect to find in some of the train cars?

1) i think this is an infinity train reference, but i unfortunately havent seen it yet, so if i misunderstand the purpose of the question i apologise.

but 2) hhhhhhh definitely something uh. something that forces me to live in the present, instead of escaping to some sort of dream world. a car that forces me to actually think about my problems, instead of just avoiding/repressing them. maybe the same car over and over again, in a long line, forever repeated in a sort of hell loop as i get faster and faster at solving it on autopilot and avoiding whatever pains it brings up, which only lets me actually complete it and move to the next car once i've ADDRESSED what it makes me feel.

a car about fathers and families that's very complex, with no real solution.

a car you just have to sit in for a while. no distractions. no fanciful daydreams. just one singular thing that hurts to think about. a metaphorical stove for me to put my hand on until i come out the other side of pain and realize i did, actually, need to experience that. with any luck it'd give me bandages, afterword

something about anger as well. that can hit me in a snap before i reign myself back in, i'm bad at that emotion in moderation